


Diabolical Streak

by Lyricanna



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M, Other characters added as they appear, Other characters are going to be in the background, Pining, Rating May Change, This is relly Ferdibert centric, University student!Ferdinand, Vampire!Hubert, blood warning, it's a vampire fic, modern vampire au, no beta we die like Glenn, vampire hunting and feeding, what do we expect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-01-13 22:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyricanna/pseuds/Lyricanna
Summary: Hubert had come to Enbarr to deal with a few matters on his maker's behalf.  Before he can get started on that, he runs into Ferdinand, a friend from when he was still human, and a distraction he can't exactly afford.  Or ignore.





	1. Midnight tea

Ferdinand was not having a good night. He had a paper due in the morning, he had run out of tea and the closest cafe was a twenty minute walk from home. On his walk over, a drunk freshman had narrowly avoided dumping her cheap alcohol on his favourite fall jacket. As he waited in a line that went out the door of the cafe, he counted the minutes on his watch, trying not to feel the _waste _of each one. No, he was not in a pleasant mood.

He flicked his long red-gold hair over his shoulder and tried to summon his patience. He should really be in bed, but that last page of the paper didn't sit well with him and he still had no closing argument written. The line moved slowly and as he neared the door, he thought he saw movement down the poorly lit street. He shook his head and looked again, prepared to blame his exhaustion for seeing things that weren't strictly _there_, when a pale face seemed to materialize out of the shadows. A minute or two later, the man was recognizable as a friend he hadn't seen in years. Dark hair, shorter than Ferdinand remembered, hung into his radiation green eyes that sat above razor sharp cheek bones and a haughty expression. He was tall, dressed almost completely in black, a small silver lapel pin on his jacket adding a spot of colour.

Instinctively Ferdinand waved and Hubert slowly and silently approached, stopping less than a foot away from where Ferdinand stood.

“Hubert, it's been so long! I never thought to see you here. You look...” Ferdinand paused and took a closer look at his old friend. Hubert had somehow managed to become even paler, something that Ferdinand would have thought impossible; he really did take the goth aesthetic too far sometimes. His expression was guarded, closed off and utterly unsurprised at seeing Ferdinand. “Well you look half dead to be honest; have you been keeping well?”

“I'm just passing through,” Hubert replied coolly.

“Oh.” Ferdinand looked away with an effort and fiddled with his watch. A smile suddenly lit up his face as he glanced up at Hubert. “Well since I'm already in line, I may as well get you a cup of coffee when I get my tea. We can walk together and catch up, since I'll be heading in the same direction that you were.”

“It looks like your turn to go inside,” Hubert replied non-noncommittally.

“Oh, so it does. I'll be out soon.”

~*~

Hubert watched Ferdinand go, taking his exuberance with him. This chance meeting looked like it would be an unfortunate distraction. He checked his pocket watch; he had enough time. He slid the family heirloom back into the pocket of his black wool coat and considered his options.

The logical thing to do would be to leave while Ferdinand was distracted. Unbidden, the memory of Ferdinand's face, upset by a past argument came into his mind followed by the most unfamiliar sensation of guilt. He pushed the image aside. He was here to work after all, not to play catch up with his high school crush. But he did have time; a short walk couldn't hurt anyone. Except for possibly Ferdinand, he admitted to himself. He had changed a lot since he had last seen the beautiful redhead; he wasn't sure that Ferdinand was safe in his presence. Especially since he had obviously noticed something _off_ about Hubert.

_Off_ didn't begin to describe the reality, not that Ferdinand would believe Hubert if he told him. Hubert had become a vampire – a literal blood drinking killer with dangerous abilities – and while he had become accustomed to the change enough to no longer lose control of his blood lust in a crowd of humans, it was already an effort to control around Ferdinand. And as much as his new instincts urged him to taste Ferdinand, to see if his blood was made of liquid sunlight, he had no desire to kill him. He had no desire to change him either; as irritating as Ferdinand could be, Hubert had always liked him the way he was. Besides, Ferdinand was not cut out for a life of shadows and bloodshed; he was gentle hearted, with a great sense of justice, always trying to do the right thing. A life like this would destroy him.

Hubert forced his thoughts to silence as they skittered towards more pleasant ways to destroy Ferdinand. This was ridiculous. He should really just be on his way instead of standing here imagining his hands on Ferdinand's hips, his neck, his hair. Hubert moved a few steps into the wind, hoping that the autumn chill would dissipate the scent of Ferdinand that was so tempting to the monster in his blood.

Just when Hubert was ready to move on, the scent of Ferdinand out of his nose and out of his blood, he reappeared carrying two large cups of burning liquid. Hubert could smell the familiar bergamot as it mingled its scent with that of the dark roast coffee.

“You weren't kidding when you said that you weren't much for letters or texting,” Ferdinand said cheerily as he handed Hubert his coffee. “I've barely heard from you these past five years. What have you been up to?”

“Travelling, mostly,” Hubert hedged. It wasn't a complete lie after all; his lady had taken him to many places in order for him to acquire the knowledge, the lore, the training to do his duty to her. None of which he could give voice to. “Are you still studying law?”

“No, much to my father's chagrin.” Ferdinand started to walk in the direction that Hubert had been walking in, the direction that led home to his one bedroom apartment in a converted church. “I've taken an interest in art history and museum studies. I'm hoping to secure an internship in Garreg Mach township for the summer; it would be extraordinary to work at the Museum of the Saints. Even you could appreciate the darker history that those walls have borne witness to.”

Unbidden the words came to Hubert's lips, “so you'll be in Enbarr until then?” He didn't look at Ferdinand. Instead he busied himself with opening the tab on his coffee lid and enjoying the aroma of a drink he could no longer consume with any joy. He could drink it if he wanted to, but it would be flavourless and dry before turning to ashes in his throat.

“Yes. Next semester will be automatic course overload so that I can catch up on my language credits. I fear I won't make it home for the holidays,” Ferdinand replied. “I'll probably spend them with Lorenz at the university. It'll be more pleasant company.”

An unexpected surge of jealousy overtook Hubert and he struggled to keep his expression blank as the monster in his blood came to the surface. The sudden urge to mark Ferdinand, to take him as his own warred with his sense of practicality; he wasn't in Enbarr for this. Ferdinand wasn't his; they had never even dated. Ferdinand had never shown any sign of more than friendly interest towards him either, Hubert reminded himself.

“Are you dating then?” he asked, and his voice was smooth and cold and controlled as he did so. He watched Ferdinand shiver slightly in response before he started laughing.

“I'm so sorry Hubert, I just...” he trailed off as he regained his composure. “Lorenz is my best friend; we're hardly involved.” Ferdinand took a sip of his tea and turned away shyly, his cheeks red, not from the wind, but from the increased blood flow to them that Hubert found impossible to ignore. “We dated for a bit, three years ago now, I think? But we agreed pretty quickly that we were better off as friends with no hard feelings involved. As of now, I am regrettably single.” Ferdinand gave a shy side glance through the curtain of his beautiful hair.

Hubert simply nodded, unsure what to make of that.

“So where did you travel to, anyway?”

“That was not at all a subtle subject change.” Hubert couldn't help but smile. “A bit of everywhere, I suppose. Brigid, Dagda, Derdriu, Almyra, Fhirdiad. It was an interesting experience.”

“Derdriu is supposed to be lovely,” Ferdinand sighed. “I'd love to visit one day.” He stopped awkwardly and looked up at the building in front of them. “Well this is my place. I'd invite you up but it's a disaster. And I have a paper due in the morning.” He sighed.

“I'll come by again if time permits,” Hubert replied before he could think better of it. That seemed to quiet the beast in his blood for the moment, a welcome relief. It had never been that... agitated. Not even when he was newly made, not even in his worst blood lust, had it burned and made demands the way that it did around Ferdinand. The irresistible prey, he had heard the phenomenon called. A human who awakens a craving in a vampire that can't be ignored. He had thought it a mere exaggeration until now.

“Of course! I'm free tomorrow night. If you have time.”

“We'll see.” Ferdinand smiled up at him and if breathing were a necessity for him, Hubert was sure that he'd be holding his breath right now. He half smiled in return and Ferdinand's idiotic grin turned into a full smile, enough to brighten the night. Before he could say anything else, Ferdinand had turned away and was bounding up the ancient steps to the front door. He stopped at the threshold and waved at Hubert before disappearing inside.

Hubert stood outside, watching the formerly holy building until he saw a light come on in the tower window. With his keen vision he could see Ferdinand moving around as he passed by the window. He watched for a few moments longer before heading to the older area of the town where he could begin his work.


	2. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert gets a debrief on his mission in Enbarr; Ferdinand gets some dating advice from Lorenz.

“You're late.” The voice was simultaneously bored and admonishing, monotone and accusatory.

“You usually are,” Hubert retorted.

“Not tonight.”

Hubert merely grunted and waited in the doorway, the old habit of deferential behaviour keeping him from shoving by the man he had come to meet. It had started to rain outside and the coffee that he held had long since gone cold. Despite being at no risk of catching a cold or otherwise getting sick, he wanted to be inside.

“You can come in, I suppose.” The other vampire moved further into the house, heading towards the windowless rooms in the centre of the old manor house.

Hubert closed and locked the large door behind him and followed his host, barely glancing around as they wandered deeper inside; he had been here before and not much seemed to have changed. Vampires, he had long since concluded, enjoyed their comforts, enjoyed recreating spaces that stirred memories of their human lives while balancing modern convenience. This place was no different; paintings and vases that were over a hundred years old sat amongst a modern TV stand complete with video games and a WiFi router. Books were strewn across nearly every horizontal surface, some brand new and others that should be locked away in a museum, carefully preserved. From previous visits, Hubert knew that the basement was outfitted with a research lab that was quite up to date. Any house that Linhardt was permitted to use had space set aside for him to conduct his research.

“What kept you?” Linhardt finally asked.

“I ran into someone,” Hubert replied, hoping that Linhardt would take the hint and drop the subject. He didn't.

“Another vampire? A human friend? Dinner?”

“A human, yes. And no need to be crass.”

Linhardt sat down and eyed Hubert in that lazy way of his, as if it was a chore to examine the person in front of him. “And they bought you coffee..?”

Hubert glanced down at the cup and set it on the table. “It happened before I could object. Regardless, I am here on business. If we could get to that before the sun rises, I would appreciate it.”

“Please, sit. It's exhausting looking up at you.” Once Hubert was settled, Linhardt picked up a couple of papers and shuffled through them. “Ah, yes, there it is. The short version is that the vampire hunting organization that has been plaguing us these past few decades have become particularly efficient in recent months. They have managed to do away with a pack of vampires, six in total, in the last month without seeming to breathe hard.

“They seem to have developed some sort of weapon, or maybe a chemical, it's hard to say, that helps them to burn a vampire alive – alive as we are, at any rate – from the inside out. And another, more interesting chemical that can prevent a vampire's healing capabilities from activating when wounded; a rather grisly way to bleed out, if you ask me. What I'm curious about, and what likely worries Lady Edelgard as well, is what they're doing with the vampire blood.”

“Which is?” Hubert prompted.

“I haven't the faintest idea. That's one of the things that we'd like you to find out. After you find their headquarters of course.”

Even though vampires didn't _get_ headaches, Hubert felt one coming on. Getting information from Linhardt was one of his least favourite assignments; it was difficult to keep his interest or focus for long and the two of them had decidedly different views on what counted as 'useful information.' He decided to forgo dragging this out by being direct instead.

“Do you have reports that I can examine?” Hubert asked as he rubbed his temples.

“Of course.” Linhardt picked up a couple of large envelopes and handed them to Hubert. “I was told to remind you that as of now, this is a reconnaissance mission. Find out as much as you can without being noticed. If you come across a hunter and can take them alive, that would be useful, but do not risk yourself. If you have to kill one, make sure it looks like a human did it. As soon as we know enough to wipe out these hunters, Lady Edelgard will join us.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Good. Now that you have your reports, you're welcome to use the quarters you stayed in on your last visit. I'm going to take a nap and then get a bit more reading in before morning.”

Hubert stood with a slight shake of his head. Linhardt had been immortal for decades if not centuries now and instead of using the time productively, he slept half the night and all of the day too. It was a baffling display of sloth that he didn't approve of. But, he reminded himself, he was supposed to try to get along with his host.

As he walked to his room, a thought came unbidden to his mind. He had definitely been noticed since arriving in Enbarr. But Ferdinand was certainly no hunter and Hubert intended to stay far away from him, for both of their sakes.

~*~

Ferdinand woke in a haze the next morning. He had finished his paper at about two in the morning and was glad that he didn't have class until noon. There was something nagging at him about the night before, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it...

He pulled himself out of bed and opened the blinds, letting in the grey light of a cool autumn day. After washing up, Ferdinand pulled on a deep burgundy turtleneck, charcoal gray slacks and a deep blue vest. He ran a brush through his hair, considered cutting it for the millionth time and immediately discarded the idea. He liked the way that his hair looked long, even if it was always a mess of tangles in the morning. It seemed that the walk from the night before had made it worse however.

The walk. Right. He had seen Hubert outside the coffee shop and then they had walked home together. How could he have forgotten? He hadn't seen his old friend in years, not since his first year of university. Hubert had left hastily, citing a family emergency of some sort during their brief good bye. And despite his best efforts, eight out of ten of Ferdinand's letters had gone unanswered, calls were never accepted and messages over facebook had become increasingly infrequent. Not that Hubert had ever been talkative, unless he was irritated.

He tried to bring that pale and sharp countenance to mind but his memory skirted around it, as if the image itself hadn't been real enough to take hold. He shook his head; he must have been very tired last night.

Ferdinand gathered his research paper and his notebooks, placing them carefully in his messenger bag. A glance at his phone told him that he had enough time to meet Lorenz before his first class, so he pulled on his coat and headed out of his apartment. As he walked towards the campus, he found his mind drifting back to Hubert. The hair cut was a solid improvement from their teen years; the wavy hair that fell around his face and frequently into his eyes had never suited him, in Ferdinand's opinion. And while still quiet, Hubert seemed less shy and more reserved, more confident. His gestures were more elegant, less hesitant and jilted...

Ferdinand shook his head. He must have missed Hubert more than he had been willing to admit, if he was thinking about him like this. Even as he admonished himself, he found himself fervently hoping that Hubert would come to see him in the evening. They could talk over dinner; he wanted to hear all about Hubert's travels, the things he had seen, people he had met. He wanted to know how long Hubert would be in town for, if they could maybe go to a play like Ferdinand had promised once, maybe go back to his apartment after...

“My, my, aren't we distracted today?” Lorenz's amused voice cut into Ferdinand's thoughts and he felt his face flush.

“Good morning,” Ferdinand replied hurriedly as he joined Lorenz in his favourite outdoor study spot.

“Are you going to share what's on your mind, darling?”

“I just had a long night.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Ferdinand felt his face flush again. “Not like that! I was up until two in the morning working on a paper.”

“That's all?” Lorenz asked, his tone and expression one of perfect innocence.

“Well I ran into a friend from back home at the coffee shop, and he walked me home. Then I finished my paper.”

“And is this friend handsome?”

“Well maybe not conventionally, no. I don't min- no we are not having this conversation.” Ferdinand checked his watch; he still had almost half an hour until class.

“So _you _find him attractive. When are you seeing him?”

“You are the worst gossip I have ever met.” It was not Ferdinand's best attempt at derailing a conversation, but he was determined to try.

“You did ask to see him didn't you? Honestly darling, I know that class work takes up a lot of time, but you really do need to put yourself back out there.” Lorenz paused to take a sip of his tea.

“You're one to talk. You haven't dated in almost as long as I have.”

“But I _have _dated.”

“Fine. I asked him if he would meet up with me after class tonight.” Ferdinand held his hand up, forestalling Lorenz from speaking. “He wasn't sure if he could make it.”

“Well at least try to entice him.”

“P-pardon?”

“Text him about where you want to go with him, send him a photo, give him something to look forward to.” Lorenz tried not to laugh when he saw Ferdinand's face. “Oh not like _that_. Be charming; you're quite good at it when you want to be.”

“Alright. I'll text him and see where that gets me. Speaking of getting anywhere, I do have a paper due in class, so I better get going.”

“Of course. I'll see you later. And please, do keep me posted.”

Ferdinand walked off hurriedly, knowing full well that he was going to be early for class. He was eager to escape the conversation and just as eager to have anything else to distract him from his own thoughts.

It wasn't until his first class was over that Ferdinand pulled out his cellphone and found Hubert's number. The text he sent was short but to the point: _See you at 7._


	3. Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand and Hubert meet for dinner. Hubert realizes how hungry he is.

Hubert looked up at the church that had been renovated into apartments for the students that flowed in and out of Enbarr every year, noting the mix of modern design and history. The former bell tower that held Ferdinand's apartment still had a stained glass window on the one side; Hubert was hardly surprised. It was the sort of useless detail that Ferdinand loved, pretty with no practicality. A mix of modern windows and ancient shutters, stone walls with modern lights above the doors. He sighed, pulled out the antique pocket watch and glanced at the time. He was early. He could still leave.

All of the reasons to leave raced through Hubert's mind, the topmost being that Ferdinand might not survive the night. As much as he longed to taste his blood, get lost in it and savour it, he knew that killing Ferdinand would destroy the last bit of humanity that clung to him. He also had business to attend to; he needed to confirm if this was the same group of hunters that had injured Lady Edelgard five years earlier. If they were, he needed to capture one in order to get the information necessary to destroy them all. He couldn't enjoy dinner with Ferdinand anyway; he did not consume human food as he had no need for it. He would be taking a risk; bright light accentuated the differences in his new physiology, disturbing and sometimes frightening the humans around him. He would be making himself into an obvious target for hunters.

Hubert glanced back at the main door and realized he had lost his chance; Ferdinand was stepping out. His hair was in a braid over his shoulder, a bright contrast to the deep burgundy coloured wool coat with black buttons. Hubert's throat tightened as the urge to reach out and touch the red-gold strands, to unbind them and move them out of the way of Ferdinand's pale neck, took hold. The scent of Ferdinand's blood mixed with his cologne, a heady smell that brought his dual nature to the surface. He fought for control, for something to say, for a distraction from the blood lust that coursed through his veins. He would need to feed before seeing Ferdinand again, if he wanted to keep him safe. If he wanted to see him again. If this wasn't some giant mistake in the making.

“Oh good you made it,” Ferdinand said with an easy smile that did nothing for Hubert's self control. “You don't look well, is everything alright?” he asked as his smile slipped into an expression of concern. He reached to touch Hubert's face, as if to check for a fever.

“I'm fine,” Hubert replied harshly. Too harshly. He jerked back, took the semblance of a deep breath and focused on regaining his control. He moderated his tone. “Really. You mustn't worry about me.” He moved to Ferdinand's other side, to try to escape the captivating scent. The wind gave him a small respite to clear his mind.

“If you're sure. You really should take better care of yourself; you've always been pale but it seems you've lost all colour in your cheeks.”

“I'll see a doctor if you'll drop the subject,” Hubert lied.

“Deal.” The smile returned to Ferdinand's face. “Is there anywhere you had in mind?”

“I cannot stay long and I'm not very hungry. You're certainly more familiar with the area than I am.”

“Oh. I know a quiet place that you might like.” Ferdinand shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as if suddenly uncertain of something.

“Lead on,” Hubert commanded.

Ferdinand nodded stiffly and started walking, suddenly tense and quiet. Against his better judgment, Hubert let his senses roam over his friend – his date? – and he found that Ferdinand had clenched his jaw, his breathing had quickened and his blood flow had increased. He was angry or upset. Which, Hubert admitted to himself, might be for the best, given that he didn't intend to see Ferdinand after this. But then again, he hadn't intended to see Ferdinand tonight or last night either.

They walked in silence as the wind grew colder, Ferdinand half a step ahead of Hubert, leading the way. Now that Hubert had regained control of himself, all of his awkwardness seemed to come flooding back. He wasn't really the type to make conversation and he had never really known what to say to Ferdinand. Instead he had always followed Ferdinand's lead, since he always seemed to have something to say. Now he was silent, irritated and Hubert felt the urge to say or do something to erase the scowl from his handsome face; he just had no idea what.

As they walked, Hubert took the time to familiarize himself with the area, glancing at store fronts and apartment buildings in various architectural styles. An elegant sign attached to an old building caught his eye; Tarot and Tonic. It was a vampire club, one he had heard mentioned a few times before. The only way humans entered were as protected guests or unknowing food for vampires. A sign that proclaimed “members only” was the only other decoration on the building's front; there were no windows, a thick wooden door with no decoration or visible handle blended in with the deep grey stone. He noted the location; he could return to speak to some of the local vampires for information later.

“I always wonder what's in there,” Ferdinand said as he followed Hubert's gaze. “Some of the students think it's a sex cult or something. Isn't that ridiculous?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

“Completely,” Hubert agreed. He wasn't even sure that vampires were capable of sex; older myths and literature suggested that they were not, while more modern stories suggested that it was possible but not for reproductive purposes. And there was a glaringly horrible series that suggested that it was possible, reproduction and all, but Hubert preferred to forget that that particular assault on literature even existed at all. It certainly was not the sort of question he could ask of Lady Edelgard; it would be utterly humiliating.

“Probably just a goth club or occult-related or something,” Ferdinand continued. “The outside is just so unassuming. It makes me wonder if they spent all their money on the inside.”

Hubert smiled slightly and shrugged. “I've never been one for the club scene.”

“That might be because you have no alcohol tolerance,” Ferdinand teased.

“More like the noise and the irritating company,” Hubert countered. This was better, more like old times.

“But you were so popular at goth night,” Ferdinand added with a grin. “You had girls all over you. So many guys were jealous.”

“I would have welcomed them whisking the girls away. It was terribly awkward.”

“Yes, you practically hid behind me, didn't you?”

“I did no such thing!”

Ferdinand tossed his hair as he laughed. “You did too! And then tried to hide in a corner when I found a dance partner.”

“More like abandoned me,” Hubert grumbled. “Whatever happened to...Saorise was her name?”

“She found someone better suited to her. And it turns out I'm more er, well, into men than women, as I'm sure you recall.” Ferdinand blushed brightly and looked away.

“I believe I recall that particular conversation,” Hubert replied dryly.

“Well, no need to relive that particular embarrassment,” Ferdinand said quickly. Hubert simply nodded his agreement as Ferdinand grabbed his arm. “Here we are, let's go in.”

They were seated quickly and even though Hubert didn't order anything, he found himself oddly content to sit and listen to Ferdinand natter on about the restaurant. They had easily fallen back into old habits, Ferdinand leading the conversation with the occasional nod or disagreement from Hubert. Their debates were not overly heated and neither of them resorted to more personal insults; they had both grown past that. The dinner had gone surprisingly well, all things considered.

Everything seemed to happen at once as Ferdinand stood up to leave. Time slowed as Hubert watched him push out his chair, stand up and have another patron practically run into him. Ferdinand fell forwards, trying to catch himself on the table; the left hand missed the table and the right hand landed on the extremely thin and fragile wine glass, pushing it onto the table and crushing it. In minute detail, Hubert saw the glass shatter and drive up into Ferdinand's skin, creating small wounds, letting his life's blood blossom into the open air. Glass, bloody and broken driven away from the force of the impact, drops of rosè staining the pristine table cloth.

The smell of blood, of _Ferdinand's blood_, consumed Hubert's focus. The scent of copper, of sweet blood, free from hard drugs and illness, heavy like myrrh mixed with Ferdinand's light cologne and the smell of sweat and shampoo. It was all Hubert could do not to seize his injured hand and lick away every drop that trickled down his palm, onto his delicate fingers. The demon in his blood was screaming with need, with hunger; he knew that his pupils would be dilated, his face almost in the rictus of a snarl as he struggled to keep control. He also felt an odd sensation, as if he were being watched. There were other vampires _here _and he hadn't even noticed until this moment. A glance around confirmed what his senses had just told him; there were several vampires, some with one another, others with human dates, watching him closely. At least they weren't watching Ferdinand.

Time resumed its normal pace; Ferdinand pulled his hand away, catching his balance, wincing with a groan of pain. The other patron apologized profusely while the nearest waiter approached to survey the damage and offer Ferdinand a napkin for his hand. Without a second thought, Hubert moved to Ferdinand's side, faster than he should have in a crowded place, and pressed a napkin to Ferdinand's hand. Heat coursed through him, unfamiliar after being a vampire for several years, uncomfortable and invigorating.

“Are you alright?” he asked, hoping to distract himself from the hunger scratching at his skin.

“It stings a bit, but I was more surprised than anything,” Ferdinand replied. Hubert pulled the napkin away and examined Ferdinand's hand for any glass shards that might have remained. There was only one and Hubert removed it quickly, and pressed another napkin to the wound. It was all he could do to focus on that, to keep control of himself.

“I'll get a bandage,” the waiter said. It brought Hubert's attention back to the restaurant, the noise and smells, and the watching vampires.

“Oh there's no need,” Ferdinand jumped in quickly. “I'll be fine.” And just like that, he pulled away from Hubert's grasp and settled the bill, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. While everyone was distracted, Hubert pocketed the bloody napkins.

~*~

Ferdinand took a deep breath of fresh air as he exited the restaurant. That had been thoroughly embarrassing. Every other patron had been staring at him while the clean up took place. He had tried to help but he had a feeling that the waiter ushered them out because they didn't want him to break anything else.

Weirder still had been Hubert's expression; it had looked angry, pained for a split second, before becoming one of such intense study and concern that Ferdinand felt both reassured and utterly exposed. And Hubert's hand was so cold, even with the napkin between them. Even as they walked now, Hubert stood closer, more attentive, as if he suspected danger from every passerby on the well-lit street. Perhaps it was meant as reassurance, but it made Ferdinand feel more nervous.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course,” Hubert answered quickly. Yet he looked like he was listening to something that wasn't there. “You're the one who is injured.”

Ferdinand took a step away, suddenly uncertain, feeling like he should be anywhere else. He shook his head. Hubert might be acting strange, but he always had been odd; he never spoke about his home life, seemed to have no romantic inclinations, and no normal hobbies. Oh, he had a pet tarantula, listened to goth metal and thought that books with happy endings lacked literary merit, but he was also shy and awkward, lanky and tall enough to have problems finding pants that actually reached his ankles. Ferdinand had concluded a long time ago that Hubert was just a tall, dorky goth, who had a weakness for antiques and historical flair. He had never seen him as a threat.

But now, there was something in those pale green eyes that made him uneasy. He couldn't say what it was or why, it just _did._

“You seem... Focused on something,” Ferdinand prompted.

“I thought I recognized some people that might cause me trouble. I'm sorry to worry you, it's none of your concern.” And just like that, Hubert's brow became wrinkled with concern and a small apologetic smile touched his lips.

“Did you join a gang or something these past few years?” It was an attempt at levity.

“I... Well, let's just say I've made some unsavoury acquaintances over the past few years. But I am more than capable of taking care of any trouble, especially on a crowded street.”

Ferdinand merely shook his head, unsure if Hubert was taunting him or not. “Well if that's the case, you must fill me in on the details. I'd hate to see you troubled by anything on your visit here.”

“Perhaps. Not all stories are mine to tell, however,” Hubert replied airily.

“Strange as ever.”

“We don't really change, do we?”

“We become better versions of ourselves,” Ferdinand said with a smile. His worries faded as if they had never been there and he felt himself relax.

“Your optimism is as unquenchable as ever.”

“Well one of us has to look on the bright side. Walk me home?”

Hubert paused for a moment, pursing his lips in obvious consideration.

“I suppose I have time for that.”

Ferdinand looped his arm through Hubert's without a second thought.


	4. A Midnight Stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert runs into Dorothea who brings him up to speed on the goings-on in Enbarr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not mean to abandon this for 6 months and I don't intend to do that again. In the meantime, if you haven't seen it already, check out the prequel to this fic, Anything At All https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692454 As always comments and kudos are appreciated. Thank you to everyone who is sticking with this fic <3

Once Ferdinand was safe and sound in his apartment, Hubert headed down to the docks of Enbarr. These sorts of places used to be uncomfortable for him, when he was human. When he was weaker. Now the seedier areas of town were as familiar as the secret hallways in Lady Edelgard's manor. He could smell blood, dried and fresh, from humans, fish and other animals lingering in the air. Strong alcohol, the sickly sweet smell of crack all mixed with the salt water, grease and refuse that littered the docks.

Hubert tried to ignore the people huddled in shadows, shaking from withdrawals or already drunk, wasting with sickness or hunger. A memory of Edelgard's voice, sad and grave, when she took him on his first hunt, reverberated in his mind._ I learned a long time ago that you can't save everyone_, she had said. At least the vampires of their clan cared for one another; so many humans utterly lacked compassion. It had always infuriated him. Yet he couldn't call it mercy to put these people out of their misery by feeding on them. Even so, there was nothing he could do to help them long term.

In the short term, however, he could rid them of those that enabled and abused them, took bribes to let them shelter in the otherwise abandoned warehouses, and relieve some of the terror that the people that tried to live here always felt. His senses roamed the area, identifying all of the humans present, their precise locations, their state of health, their moods, their intentions. His eyes scanned those he passed, assessing and discarding many of the men and women that ignored his presence. He was looking for someone whose cruelty, depravity and utter corruption that he could _taste_. His senses zeroed in on a man who would look somewhat out of place to those unfamiliar with the underbelly of Enbarr.

The man was easily of a height with Hubert, well dressed and well muscled. He was in his forties, no grey yet in his hair, his posture far too certain; he knew he had power here. As Hubert crept closer, he was assaulted by the smell of raw meat, blood, the musk of sex, a sharp dose of metal and the thick, pungent presence of chloroform. Perfect.

Faster than his victim could process, Hubert's arms darted out, one hand covering the man's mouth, the other clutching the man's chest. He yanked him into the shadows and smashed the man against the wall, knocking the breath from him. Hubert's hands tangled in his victim's hair as he smashed the man's skull into the wall. That left him only the shortest window to feed before his victim died, but it was an effective way to cover the cause of death. His fangs found the man's pulse, sinking into his neck with little resistance. The blood flooded his mouth, invigorating his senses, sweet, coppery, perfect. He let out a contented sigh as he fed, pleasure flooding his senses in a way that any human pleasure had failed to do. Not that he had ever indulged much in his short twenty human years, but the point remained. This was perfect, filling and completing him in a way that only feeding and being fed from did.

Hubert pulled away from his victim a second before his heart stopped and dropped him to the ground. As he regained his composure, his senses hit upon another presence. He spun around, to come face to face with another vampire. Just as quickly as he saw her, he relaxed. This one, at least, wasn't a threat.

He nodded his head in a shallow bow, in deference to her age. “Miss Arnault.”

“Hubie, fancy seeing you here,” Dorothea replied, her voice overly sweet.

“I'm sure that you are less surprised than I am,” he replied dryly.

“Of course Edie told me you'd be here. I thought you would appreciate some livelier company than Linhardt, but that delicious red head seems to have beaten me to it.”

Hubert rolled his eyes and stepped closer, offering his arm the way that Lady Edelgard had taught him. Dorothea gently rested her hand on his arm and they began to walk towards the less depressing areas of the city.

“I knew him when we were younger,” Hubert hedged. Dorothea had a couple centuries of age over Hubert, but that much time hadn't dulled her love of gossip.

“I think you want to get to know him all over again,” Dorothea cooed suggestively.

“It wasn't like that. I never...”

“I know, little virgin Hubie, Edelgard's perfect attendant. You were such an awkward teenager. Yet you didn't seem to peak in college either,” she teased.

“Do you have a point?” Hubert snarled.

“Yes. You better put a claim mark on him soon, or someone else is going to sweep him up.”

“A... claim mark?”

Dorothea sighed dramatically and shook her head. “I don't know why Edie is such a prude around you, but she is. She mothered you too much, I think. If you want to make it loud and clear to others of our esteemed tendencies that a particular human is yours, you mark them. You bite them and put a singular drop of your blood into their wound. Unless another vampire wants to start shit with you, they'll avoid that human.”

“I see that you are taking to modern colloquialisms quite well,” Hubert snorted.

Dorothea elbowed him lightly. “It would be nice if you did. You're like talking to an old man and you're what, twenty-five?”

“Thereabouts.”

“Learn to live a little! All work and no play makes Hubie a dull boy,” Dorothea chided.

“I have work to do. Regarding the incident that led to my rebirth.”

She simply sighed and shook her long, wavy hair. “Not that you've been doing much, ogling the red head aside. There are some rumours about a historical building downtown that was recently re-purposed. The amount of security added to the place would be ridiculous enough on its own, but there are a lot of people coming and going that aren't from Enbarr. Interestingly enough, the people that bought the historical manner bought the old hotel behind it and fenced in both buildings. If our enemies have decided to create a centralized location, a headquarters or a training centre? I imagine they'd want that much land, privacy and floor space.”

“That does sound promising. Where did you pick up this particular rumour?” he asked.

“Tarot and Tonic isn't just a vampire club, it's basically the hub in Enbarr. And they're preparing for trouble. Baiting it, you might say.” Dorothea's eyes sparkled dangerously.

“Are any other clans involved?”

“Some of the Blaiddyd brood and a few Deer. The Savage Mockingbird has taken possession of the club, and his Mountain Wolf comes around sometimes.”

“So we have how many clan leaders in town?”

“Only one thus far. Although we all know that the Blaiddyd king is never far from his brood and the Stag tends to be elusive.” Dorothea shrugged as if that many different clans in town didn't bother her, never mind the nomadic vampires Hubert had already seen. Things had definitely changed in Enbarr in a few short years. And Linhardt, head in a book or fast asleep, either hadn't noticed any of it or didn't think that it was important enough information to share.

“Thank you for enlightening me. This should help to speed things along,” Hubert murmured after a moment. “I'll see what I can confirm.”

“Not even going to keep me company for the rest of the night. I'd say I'm disappointed but I'd expect nothing else from you, Hubie.” Another dramatic sigh passed through her perfect lips. “Do call on me at the club soon. You don't have to deal with this alone.” She pulled her arm away from his as they stepped onto a well lit street at the edge of the market district. “Oh and when you come by, please bring the redhead. I'll be too curious to stay away if you don't.”

Before Hubert could respond, Dorothea blew him a kiss and traipsed off, as if nothing in the world were wrong. As exasperating as he found her, he knew better than to underestimate her. She was strong and Edelgard trusted her. Which should be enough for him, but uncertainty continued to wrinkle his brow as he made his way to the historical district of Enbarr. He still had six hours or so until sunrise and he intended to use them.


	5. Pep talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand hasn't heard from Hubert and Lorenz has had enough of of his best friend's moping.

“You're doing it again,” Lorenz murmured from across the table.

Ferdinand firmly set his cell phone on the table, determined not to think about it. He wasn't thinking about Hubert, or why he never texted or called in the week that had passed since their date. He wasn't thinking about whether it _was_ a date, not just an odd outing as friends. He certainly wasn't worrying that Hubert would vanish for four or five years again with no further explanation than what Ferdinand has received at the end of their date. And he definitely was not stopping to think about Hubert's long, slender hands, his beautiful green eyes or high cheek bones. No, Ferdinand von Aegir was focusing on his notes on the history of glass work and trying very hard to care about different types of sand and pigment mixtures and which periods in history each related to.

“It's nothing. It's just difficult to focus on glass pigmentation techniques.”

“You're the one that chose to switch over to art history and conservation techniques, with a focus on religious iconography,” Lorenz reminded him.

“I know. And I enjoy it, for the most part.”

“And there is nothing else on your mind?” Lorenz asked pointedly.

“Nothing at all,” Ferdinand replied haughtily, turning his chin up and squaring his shoulders as he did so.

“Just call him,” Lorenz snapped. “It's depressing watching you check your phone every five minutes like a puppy hoping for a treat that never arrives.”

Ferdinand winced and glanced around the arts college's common room, hoping that no one else had been bothered by Lorenz's outburst. They were alone.

“I am not doing that. The acting like a puppy thing,” Ferdinand scoffed. Lorenz gave him a level look as he applied another coat of nail polish.

“Ferdie, darling, I know you want a romance where he sweeps you off your feat, gives you roses and takes you out to lovely dinners and special events. From the very little you've told me about this Herbert – ”

“Hubert.”

“– and you have told me _very little_, he is not that type of person. Yet you're obviously crushing on him. Hard. So there has to be something that appeals to you about him. If he is someone that you want to seriously pursue, then you cannot sit by passively and wait. Make him notice you. Make your intentions known, see if he's on the same page and go from there. Make yourself impossible to ignore. Be bold. Or find someone who will chase you, spoil you and treat you like a prince.”

“I just don't know what to say, what I even feel about him,” Ferdinand sighed and folded his arms on the table. He laid his head down on top of his books and took a few breaths. “We weren't super close before this or anything, but we were friends. He wasn't supposed to get attractive or walk back into my life and confuse me all over again.”

“Again?” Lorenz finished the gradient on the nails of his left hand and paused to let them dry. Ferdinand scowled and mentally kicked himself. This was not a conversation that he had wanted to have with anyone, ever, not even his best friend.

“Forget it.”

“No. You're not allowed to run from this. You're first relationship didn't work out for obvious reasons. You and I just cannot live together and we have both accepted that and are still friends. I promised to never let you hold yourself back from being happy. If this is a chance at it, then I am going to help you take it,” Lorenz finished gently.

“I know. I just...” he looked up pleadingly at Lorenz. “It's just so hard to open up about all of this.”

“I know. But no one is here to judge you. You know that I won't. I want to help, darling. I want you to be happy.”

Ferdinand nodded and gathered his thoughts. If he talked this out, got all of this out of his system maybe he could focus on studying for his test tomorrow. Then he could have all of reading week to relax.

“I told you about how I came out to my ex-girlfriend right?” Ferdinand started. Lorenz nodded and thankfully withheld commentary. “Well after I realised that I wasn't straight...” he paused. It was still hard to say that in a serious way. It was so much easier to be flippant or coy. “I spoke to Hubert about the whole thing. He was oddly comforting. I mean it's not like he's made of ice, but he's not a public displays of affection kind of guy. He let me cry it out over the phone and said that he would have held me while I cried if he had been there. I thought he'd come back to school soon, since he had left for a family emergency a week or two before and he had to finish his studies right? But then he sort of faded away and I hadn't told him that I had feelings for him. And now here he is again, only in the city for a short while, and I don't know if it's worth risking that again. Even though I like being around him. Even though I miss him.”

“Well it sounds like he was there for you as best as he was able to be at the time, so I suppose that is one point in his favour. Do you know where he's been all of this time?”

“He said he's been travelling but he didn't say much about it. He never even told me about what the family emergency was or why he didn't come back,” Ferdinand complained. “I don't even know if he's interested in...” he left the sentence hanging, unsure of which word he had intended to use. Me? Men? Relationships?

“So he's the dark, quiet mysterious type,” Lorenz mused.

“He said that he had made some 'unsavoury acquaintances' over the years and he was worried about trouble, whatever that's supposed to mean,” he groused.

“You need to have a serious conversation with him, whether or not you decide to pursue him romantically. If he is this closed off as a friend, then it needs to change, especially if you want more than that. He sounds like he's had a troubled life, but he should still show you some respect. If he can't or won't do that, then you have your answer,” Lorenz declared. “You deserve to be loved and trusted.”

“One thing at a time,” Ferdinand replied with a nervous laugh. “I think I want to try another conversation as friends first and see what he's willing to say before I bring up the complicated stuff. And you are right, I should face this boldly, with dignity.”

“That's more like it,” Lorenz grinned, “and more like _you_. You aren't made for moping and self pity.”

“If this works out, I am going to be equally relentless the next time you have a crush,” Ferdinand promised.

“I should hope so. I'd ask if your friend had any friends, but you already said he was the loner type, so I don't see any hope there,” Lorenz sighed. “Trying to meet people that want more than a fling these days is so _exhausting_.”

“So you've said. About one hundred times.”

“Oh you hush. It takes exactly two glasses of wine to get you started on the 'I don't want to die alone' speech.”

Ferdinand resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at Lorenz by slowly picking up his phone instead. He sent Hubert a quick text and then turned his phone off. Either he would get an answer or he wouldn't. He had studying to do and he could worry later.

“Now where was I?” he asked himself as he began to re-read his notes.

“Something about picric acid?” Lorenz supplied helpfully.

“Right. It's good for etching in metal, it used to be a skin dye and there are historical incidents of it being applied to thick glass panes to destroy important buildings, since it explodes when exposed to excess heat.”

“Riveting, I'm sure,” Lorenz nodded. “Before you get deep into that, would you mind showing me a photo of this Hubert fellow?”

“After I'm done studying. I just turned my phone off to avoid distracting myself.”

“I'm holding you to that,” Lorenz replied as he began to paint the nails on his other hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one week? I hope this happens more often! Another short chapter, but it's easier for me to do short pieces of output instead of 3000+ word chapters, so it'll probably continue on like this. As usual, comments and kudos appreciated!


	6. Just the Other Side of Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert makes a decision.

Hubert was watching the downtown compound for the seventh night in a row. He was becoming more and more curious about Dorothea's hunch. There was something going on here, the question was what. Beyond seeing some familiar symbols that Linhardt's research had turned up, which he already knew were associated with the hunters, he had nothing to go on. They had no night time deliveries made to the compound, so he hadn't been able to inspect what the trucks that left at sunset were bringing in. Aside from security guards making circuitous rounds, he saw no one enter or leave the buildings at night, despite lights being on and people being clearly visible in the windows of the re-purposed hotel. Which suggested to him that there were passages underground used to enter the buildings directly. Passages that he had yet to find entrance to.

He had not yet dared to enter the compound. There were cameras everywhere, most not all that cleverly hidden. The security guards were armed with modified guns that Hubert suspected contained chemicals specifically developed to kill vampires. Even though he hadn't known any of the recent victims personally, the idea of a vampire bleeding out, unable to heal itself or move, filled him with anger and sadness. Even though he had to kill to survive, he had a certain reverence for his strange existence. Vampires that were a genuine danger to other vampires and to human society as a whole had always been dealt with by their own kind. The hunters, although they thought this was some sacred duty, acted like the humans that killed animals not for their meat, not for science or pursuit of knowledge, but just to hang their bodies on the wall. He was not eager to meet that fate himself. He would do what he could to prevent others from meeting that fate. For Edelgard, for their clan and kind.

Yet even as he tried to keep watch from his hidden perch, his mind threatened to wander again. He had been ignoring Ferdinand since their last date, focusing on his work, hoping that he could figure this out on his own. The potential answers that might be found in the Tarot and Tonic, came with a price that he dared not consider paying. He could not drag Ferdinand into this. He had no right to mark him, to put hands on him. He had no right to endanger a human for the sake of Dorothea's curiosity and easy answers that he might not be able to trust.

Hubert's trust was always in short supply. He had investigated Ferdinand's family and family history obsessively during his first year as a vampire. Ferdinand had no connection to the hunters, so far as he could find. Yet they were only as close as Hubert could let them be, which, when considered objectively, hadn't been more than acquaintances, occasional friends. It was safest to remain so. Even if in his normally dreamless sleep he dreamt about red hair splayed upon pale skin, sometimes looking like liquid gold, other times like blood. Or that in those dreams, pale thighs hugged his body, a pale neck gracefully exposed, golden eyes looking down at him pleading, seductive...

He shook his head in frustration. The interlacing of erotic fantasies and blood sacrifice were hard to shake off. He had tried to feed more than usual in order to stave off his idiotic, inconvenient need for Ferdinand. He was trying to focus on his work; the faster it was done, the faster he could leave. It wasn't working.

Even if he wanted to take such a stupid risk as to introduce Ferdinand to Dorothea, never mind bringing him into a vampire bar, what would he even tell Ferdinand before hand? If he walked up to Ferdinand, told him he had something important to say, and then told him he was a blood drinking creature, his friend would probably ask whether Hubert ever did see that doctor and try to find him professional help. If he didn't just laugh or say that Hubert was taking the whole goth thing too far. Even if he tried to pass it off as a blood kink, it wouldn't be the least bit appropriate a conversation to have between friends.

His thoughts screeched to a halt. He was trying to figure out how to tell Ferdinand, the one thing he was determined not to do. He was trying to grasp for a chance with him that he didn't have a right to. What was wrong with him?

Another sobering thought: was this Dorothea's influence? She had an uncanny ability to convince people to do what she wanted, often against their own wishes. He had seen her power first hand before, the strength of her songs turning people into puppets. All blood drinkers had different gifts. But she hadn't sang to him on that night a week ago. He didn't know if she had to use her songs to persuade people or not.

A last, grimmer thought interrupted his contemplation. What if he was simply denying what he truly wanted, what he had always wanted? Even as a teenager, he had wanted Ferdinand's company, his eagerness and awkwardness in equal measure. His compassion and desire to do better, to be better combined with his naivete. The beautiful golden eyes and easy smile... Now he simply wanted Ferdinand's blood, his trust, his lust alongside his beauty, his liveliness and his affection. Worse, what if he wanted the simple normalcy of Ferdinand's life, a life he would never have had, vampire or human?

Guilt flooded through Hubert at that thought. He had been born and raised to serve his lady, the beneficent Dame Edelgard, as her human agent in the world. She had provided everything he needed as he grew up and he was utterly devoted to her. Even though she nearly killed him after she had been rescued from those hunters – she had nearly died from blood loss and he never held it against her – even though she had made him a vampire, even though every risk and sacrifice ever taken, ever made in his life had been for her... he wanted something else. Someone else. Someone that could never live in their world, among them and be safe. Someone, that he admitted only to himself, that if anyone ever turned into a vampire, would kill a part of him that he kept hidden. Ferdinand condemned to a life of violence and murder, away from the sun. No, that would destroy them both. It could destroy his loyalty to Edelgard, it could ruin all of his work. That was a path that he could not walk. Unlike his father, his loyalty, his oath, was his bond.

Decision made, he crept away from where he had been watching the compound. He could afford to see Ferdinand one last time, to end things properly. He brought the scent and taste of Ferdinand's blood to mind, while trying to ignore the lingering shame of having sucked the few drops from the stolen napkin, and focused. Being able to use blood to find people was a useful tracking skill, and a rare one; even Edelgard had never come across another with that gift. Ferdinand wasn't too far off, probably on his way home from the university. Instinctively, Hubert began to head towards his current location, ignoring human made markers of direction, following the memory of blood that called to him.

He stopped outside of the pagan book store across the road from the coffee shop that he had seen Ferdinand at on that first night back in Enbarr. Ferdinand was beautiful, his red gold waves in a ponytail, a few delicate strands framing his face. It took Hubert a few seconds to realize that he was with someone. The other man was as pale as Hubert himself was, yet somehow still human. He had a long asymmetrical hair cut and his vivid purple hair matched his coat.

He didn't want to do this with an audience, but maybe that would be for the best. Ferdinand would have someone to talk to about this and his friend would remind him of what an unfeeling ass hole Hubert was, so that Ferdinand never tried to chase him again. Hubert glanced at the road, waiting for traffic to clear before crossing the road. Ferdinand squared his shoulders; he was irritated and rightly, so, given that Hubert had ignored him for a week. His purple haired friend's eyes opened wide and he seemed to be unsettled by something. Hubert reached the other side, filled his nose with Ferdinand's scent and opened his mouth to speak.

Suddenly he was on the ground and there was incredible pain in his chest. He was bleeding. Bleeding out, he realized as numbness radiated through his body. He hadn't even seen the shooter. He couldn't move to get away. Everything faded out of focus, sound becoming distant, sight already gone. There were voices talking, very little of he conversation making any sense in his ears. The last words hat he heard that made any sense at all made him want to laugh.

“We need to leave, he isn't even human, Ferdinand!”

Everything was a black, silent, agonizing oblivion after that.


	7. Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand tries to confront the events of the evening.

Ferdinand sat by the bedside as the sun crested the horizon and shone through the stained glass of his bedroom window. He had moved from fear, despair, compassion to anger and finally to this, a tired numbness now that the obvious danger had faded. He couldn't speak, couldn't even form words to explain his own feelings, never mind the questions the deception... Lorenz had finally taken the hint and left Ferdinand alone, to his strange vigil.

_He isn't even human._ The words haunted him still. Hubert was bleeding, on the ground unconscious, and someone had shot him. And Lorenz had gone paler than usual, and begged Ferdinand to leave the scene, saying that this was something that they should not get involved with. But he was already involved, Ferdinand had thought. This was Hubert, the dorky goth from his high school years, aloof yet perceptive, quiet yet firm when he spoke. Hubert who had signed petitions to benefit students that couldn't afford supplies, who had volunteered in the background for charity events, who stood up for Bernadetta when she was bullied over her love of fan-fiction. He was also Hubert who had disappeared for four years for a family emergency regarding family members that he never gave name to, who looked too pale when they met again, too distant, too detached.

Ferdinand shook his head. He couldn't remember what he said, what had finally been the point that had compelled Lorenz to help him get Hubert somewhere safe as the streets emptied and the blood from Hubert's wounds seemed to dry and flake away on the sidewalk, unnatural in the autumn night. But his friend had, at last given in and helped him get the unconscious man back to Ferdinand's apartment. And that was the marvel really; Hubert _was_ unconscious, despite the blood loss, despite the fall to the concrete, he was breathing.

Then had come the need to know, to understand, what he had witnessed and why, why Lorenz seemed to understand what it was that had happened. What his best friend, his ex-boyfriend had hidden from him. What his crush was also hiding from him.

“What did you mean, back there?” he had asked and pinned Lorenz with such an intense look that he could no longer meet Ferdinand's eyes.

“Your... friend is not human. I thought that was clear,” Lorenz said quietly.

“How would you know?”

Lorenz had walked to the kitchen counter that separated the living space from the kitchen and stared down at it's wooden top as he gathered the words that he hadn't wanted to speak.

“You aren't the only one that is running from family expectations, my dear,” came the small reply, bitterly.

“My family has been a part of a group of... guardians, they consider themselves, saviors of humanity. This group deals with inhuman things, kills them. Creatures like vampires and witches, demons born of the goddess' death so many years ago.”

“If he is really not human as you said, then why is he alive?” Ferdinand had scoffed, still unbelieving.

“There is an experimental division, that have been working on a secret project for some time. It seems that they may have began to test the prototype. Last I heard the attempt had been given up, but I guess someone funded the project after all. They were working on a chemical, some sort of... I don't know really. But it was supposed to save them, keep them from having to be killed. It was supposed to make them human again.”

Lorenz had turned then, looking at Ferdinand with an expression so sad, so bitter, so defeated, that Ferdinand almost wanted to forgive the deception. Almost. Yet something hadn't added up.

“You are so proud of your family history. Why did you walk away from this?” The words hit Lorenz like a slap; his eyes widened and he looked so lost, so hurt and there was a flash of indignant rage in his eyes.

“Let that be lost history,” Lorenz had begged. But Ferdinand was worried, hurt, angry and his defences were up. How couldn't he be defensive? How much pain, how much of his trust could be trampled in one night? Even though he was not a cruel man, he had no mercy in him then.

“I can't trust you if I don't know that you really have left, Lorenz. That you weren't in on this!”

Lorenz had frozen at that, his face had become stone, his posture indignant, shoring up barriers that he had let down. “I left because they wanted me to kill my first boyfriend. One day, perhaps he will forgive me for leaving, if they haven't killed him anyway.” Head held high, Lorenz had walked into the bathroom and quietly closed the door.

When he came back, Lorenz was composed and Ferdinand changed the subject.

“If he's human now, if he had ever been anything else in the first place, what do we do? They'll come for him, won't they?”

“They might. I don't know. They might just monitor him from a distance. They might try to take him. This project, to create a way to reverse the vampiric state, wasn't really discussed in detail around me. I knew it existed and that it had been going poorly a few years back, nothing more.”

Ferdinand had simply nodded and gone back to his room to look in on Hubert. He laid still, the strange wound that was visible on his chest and mirrored on his back, was scabbed over, an unnatural, grey-violet scab. None of the wounds had reopened. _Being shot shouldn't heal someone_, Ferdinand admitted to himself. _Nor should the wound close so quickly or look so strange. _Hubert still looked sick, yet his paleness wasn't as complete as it had been. There was the hint of colour in his cheeks now. His hair was messy and his face looked somehow younger. Perhaps that was only the vulnerability granted by sleep.

Lorenz had left, going back into the living room. Ferdinand heard him talking now, softly on his cell phone. He didn't know who Lorenz could be talking to at this hour, as the started to rise in the grey autumn mists, and he didn't care. So long as it couldn't bring more harm than the evening before had caused.

He reached out and tenderly touched Hubert's hair, brushing it away from his forehead. He didn't know if Hubert would permit the touch under normal circumstances, but it was harmless enough. His skin felt a little cool, yet no more than anyone else would if they were ill. He wondered idly if Hubert had ever gone to the doctor. He supposed that the dark haired man wouldn't have needed to, if he really was some sort of vampire or other fantastical creature.

Ferdinand still wasn't quite sure if he believed it. Nothing from the night made sense. Maybe he was in denial; he didn't know. He wasn't sure that he could face another person that he loved having had deceived him. Perhaps it was exhaustion, perhaps it was denial, perhaps it was that he was running out of anger but he found it easier to forgive Hubert who had been absent from his life, as opposed to Lorenz who he had seen almost daily for the better part of three years. Besides, he had never really dated Hubert or been intimate with him. Perhaps that left room for understanding. Perhaps.

As the sun filtered through the window in the myriad colours of the stained glass, Lorenz brought him some tea and then withdrew to the living room. Ferdinand pulled out his cell phone, still at half charge and put on the Jill Tracey album that Hubert had adored in high school, trying to find some solace in that haunting voice. It seemed so ironic, that the first time he had heard her sing, he had exclaimed, “she sounds like a vampire!” Maybe she was, he thought idly.

The first verse of the song Treasure was the one that eventually lulled him to sleep in his chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First verse of Treasure, for context:   
"You’re my treasure and my trouble  
You’re the serum and the struggle  
You’re a ransom and an outrage  
You’re my kingdom in a bird cage
> 
> But I’m just blown away  
I’m just blown away  
I’m just blown away every time I look at you"
> 
> You can listen to the song and read the rest of the lyrics here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z53Vgd1cCtM


	8. What Daylight Reveals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert wakes up in Ferdinand's room.

Hubert awoke to a light so bright that he automatically rolled away from it, shielding his eyes from the blinding, immobilizing sun. Pain lanced through his chest, burning with every movement, every breath he took. He stilled instantly. He was in _pain_. He was alive and the pain hadn't healed. He was _breathing_. Vampires healed within a few ours if the wound wasn't fatal, but vampires did not need to breathe. Hysteria nearly took him then, the absurdity of everything. He had been shot and he was alive and he was...

Where was he? He sat up, still leery of the over-bright sunlight streaming through the large circular windows. His eyes caught the light dazzling off of red hair and he froze. He was in Ferdinand's apartment, in his room. He tried very hard to listen for other noises but heard nothing. His senses were so dull and his pain was far too distracting... He was human again. Hysteria mounted, rising like a tide and it took every trick of mental focus to keep himself from laughing or screaming or both.

So, he was in Ferdinand's room, where Ferdinand sat on a chair sleeping, his clothes from the night before still on, his pale brow slightly scrunched as though his dreams required intense concentration. Hubert smiled, despite everything. Ferdinand's presence felt reassuring, even though that was completely illogical. Especially since he had resolved not to see him again. Well, that choice seemed to have been taken from him.

Hubert shook his head. He couldn't let his mind wander like this, couldn't hope for a normal life, with Ferdinand and maybe a dog... No. Human or vampire he still had a duty to do. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, only to find a piece of the phone case and nothing else. He must have broken it when he hit the concrete and the debris was left behind. Okay so he needed a phone. He knew every phone number to reach Edelgard by heart and Dorothea's number as well. He couldn't go back to Linhardt, couldn't risk leading hunters to the lazy vampire's home. They knew him, knew his face, knew he had been spying on them. But he didn't know _how_ they knew. Even before he had been changed, he was an expert in concealment, in finding and avoiding security features that were themselves expertly concealed...

Which left his walks with Ferdinand and the restaurant. Someone had seen him and reported to someone else to have him followed. Perhaps his distraction with Ferdinand had made him less aware of his surroundings. But they had been followed that night at the restaurant, hadn't they? He couldn't remember. His vampiric memory was picture perfect but his human memory was more like a half second glimpse of a snapshot, unable to capture the whole picture, just the odd glaring detail.

He bit his lip, considering. He had been turned back into a human, he had a stupid crush on Ferdinand that had probably caused his current condition, he needed to tell Dame Edelgard exactly what the hunters had concocted and to get her help with... Confusion clouded his mind. Did he want reinforcements? Did he want to be turned back? Did he want to be human?

Then the thought that paralyzed him, made logical thinking impossible. _What did Ferdinand know about him? Why didn't Ferdinand take him to the hospital? _Then the old suspicion, ingrained in him since he began his training, since his birth in a very real way, bubbled to the surface. Was Ferdinand on the other side?

No, their reunion had been by chance. He had never advertised his whereabouts, he never did social media check ins, his GPS was always off. Linhardt was the only one who knew he was coming...

But Edelgard had been betrayed in her home, years ago, by his own father. He had been away at college but had come home when Dorothea called. The front hall had shown some degree of a scuffle, but he had been so worried, knew they were so short on time to find her that he hadn't really taken the situation in. What if it wasn't just his father that had attacked her there? What if the old manor house had been watched? What if, in their grief and trauma afterwards, in the frenzy where Hubert had been made into a vampire and started his second life, what if they had missed something when re-assessing their security? He had cleaned out a few listening devices but had he checked to see if the land lines were tapped? Had he changed the VPN? He didn't know. He couldn't remember. Those days were filled with new lessons and almost ceaseless blood lust, the overwhelming hunger of a new vampire that took time to master.

The idea that his lady had been continually watched without his knowledge for years after that attack, that his negligence could have endangered all of them, made him feel sick. The irony of that was that he couldn't throw up if he wanted to; he hadn't eaten in years. He laughed bitterly.

Ferdinand stirred, his eyes slowly drifting open, wincing at the discomfort that came from having slept in such an uncomfortable position. He stretched and shook out his long wavy hair.

“Oh, you're awake,” Ferdinand said, the relief evident in his voice and face. “I wasn't sure after everything that happened, but Lorenz...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “Well, we can talk about all of that later.”

_Gods he's beautiful_, Hubert thought. He forced himself to focus. Aloud he said, “is this Lorenz still here?”

“I think so,” Ferdinand replied. “I was angry with him but he was going to stay the night, to make sure that we were both okay in the morning. He should be in the main room.”

Ah yes, Ferdinand's ex-boyfriend. He grimaced at that but said nothing.

“Can you stand?” Ferdinand asked tenderly.

Hubert pulled away the blankets and cautiously got to his feet. His legs felt weak but he could manage. He supposed that he was hungry and laughter threatened again. Ferdinand still looked like a meal, but not in the vampiric sense of the word.

“We should go out to the main room and talk. There is a lot of air to clear and some breakfast might help.”

Hubert nodded and gestured for Ferdinand to lead the way. Ferdinand led him through a short hallway, with a bathroom across the hall to a larger main room, an open concept kitchen and living room, with a small desk near the stained glass window. The furnishing were simple but nice, adding colour to the old wood-panelled stone walls. The wooden counter and cabinets that separated the living room from the kitchen were antique, lovingly crafted and cared for.

He saw the purple haired man, Lorenz before the man turned and saw him. He was very tall and slender, elegant really. The long purple hair was cut asymmetrically, short on one side, gently sloping into a length that reached most of the way down his back on the other.

“Oh you're awake,” Lorenz said as he turned around. He had the electric kettle on for tea and two mugs sitting ready. “Both of you,” he amended, an odd look on his face.

Ferdinand, ever the gracious host tried to ease the situation with introductions. “Lorenz, this is Hubert Von Vestra. Hubert this is Lorenz Hellman Gl-”

“-Gloucester,” Hubert snarled as pieces fell into place in his mind. The Gloucester family had been on the hunt for vampires for generations. According to Linhardt, the Gloucester family had gone silent for about fifty years, leading to the hope that the murderous line had died out. Apparently not.

Lorenz had stiffened, glaring back at Hubert with as much indignation as he could muster.

“There will be no fighting here. I understand there might be some existing animosity, but we are all capable of being gentlemen and until I know what exactly is going on, we will act accordingly,” Ferdinand said sharply. He gave both men a sharp look and each eventually nodded in turn.

Hubert walked over to the couch and sat down. Ferdinand took the armchair to the left, leaving Lorenz a spot on the couch, one of the tall chairs at the counter or the desk chair. Lorenz finished making tea and poured for each of them before sitting down in the desk chair. Silence reigned as the tension continued to rise, like smoke in an old bar. No one wanted to speak first.

Ferdinand set his tea down and took a breath. “I guess I'll just start asking questions, since neither of you seem inclined to say anything. Okay. So.” Another breath. Another glance at each of the men sitting in his living room, their defences visibly up. “I guess I'll start at the heart of it. If this one is true, then it might help to explain the rest. Hubert, we saw when you were attacked. You saw us, you were crossing the road towards us. You were shot through the chest. Yet, you are alive. How?” It was a nervous jumble of words, a roundabout way of asking the question that Ferdinand was trying to avoid: are you a vampire?

“Given his lack of surprise that I knew his family name, I assume that he is involved, to some degree in the family business.”

“Against my wishes,” Lorenz allowed. Hubert filed that away for later; he needed to verify that himself before he would believe it.

“I am not sure how I am alive,” Hubert responded. “Given my previous condition, I very well shouldn't be breathing. I would like to know how I am as well.”

“Shouldn't be breathing, yet you seem to expect to be...” Ferdinand trailed off again, wishing that Hubert would just outright confirm or deny what Lorenz had told him.

Hubert saw the question in Ferdinand's eyes. He couldn't dance around the subject anymore.

“After I left university four years ago, I went home to my... guardian. She had been betrayed by my father, attacked by some associates of your family,” that with a pointed look at Lorenz, “and kidnapped. It was my duty to rescue her or avenge her. With help, I managed to do both. But she had been injured, her brown hair turned white, her body scarred and frail. These things, these changes, do not happen to vampires. When she awoke she was ravenous and I was the only human in the room. When she realized what she had done, she changed me, gave me another life. I would very much like to know how that was taken away.”

“So it's true then. You aren't, weren't, human but you are now I think?” Ferdinand stammered.

“I presume he told you as much,” Hubert replied.

“I did. When you were injured, I told Ferdinand not to get involved. I thought, given how close you had been getting, before you ignored him for a week, that he might have known, and if he didn't know, he had a right to.”

“That was not your decision to make,” Hubert snarled.

“So, if last night hadn't gone how it had, you would have continued lying to him?”

“No.” Hubert didn't like being on the defensive, so he went on the attack instead. “So why did you help Ferdinand, knowing what you know?”

“No one seemed coming forth to collect you and you were breathing... And Ferdinand asked me to. I have found it difficult to deny him any request.” He took a sip of tea, his brow furrowing, obviously considering his next words. “You are not the first of your kind that I have met. Nor the first that I have intervened for.”

Hubert looked over at him, trying to assess the elegant man who could speak so calmly of death and betrayal while sipping tea, with his ankles crossed and every movement just so. He was dangerous in his own right, but Hubert wasn't sure in what way. Just that Lorenz was.

“Am I the first that has survived that sort of attack?”

“I don't know. I cut ties with the organization a while back. They thought I was no longer suitable for continued training, which was much how I preferred it. My sister would know more than I, but I dare not endanger her over this.”

“You said last night, that there might be a chemical in the bullet that could make a vampire human again, that it was to avoid killing them,” Ferdinand said softly.

“It appears to be the case,” Lorenz agreed.

“I need to get in contact with some people. My phone is missing. Is there a payphone near by?” Hubert asked.

“You need to get something to eat and drink before you do anything,” Ferdinand chided. “And what if they're still after you? Going outside might be the worst thing you can do right now.”

“I have people that I need to protect and matters to rectify,” Hubert disagreed.

“Is it really so bad, being human again?” Ferdinand asked, with a catch in his voice and eyes that were searching Hubert's face for... something.

“I don't know. But this clever chemical could mean death for the others and I need to do what I was born to do, raised to do. I need to protect them.”

“How so? It obviously worked on you.” Lorenz pointed out.

“I was human nearly four years ago. But what about a vampire who has lived one hundred years, or two hundred or a thousand? I can tell that those years have caught up with me, jut by a brief glance in the mirror. Your organization's 'mercy' would only work on the young ones. I do not wish to watch a century catch up to someone.”

Lorenz pursed his thin lips, but said nothing. Hubert was fine with that; he found the other man to be irritating. Ferdinand stood up abruptly and walked over to the fridge and began to pull out some food. He obviously needed time to think and busying himself by making breakfast was a suitable way to avoid conversation.

Hubert continued to sit where he was, mulling over his options. No matter which way he thought about it, he could only come to one conclusion: he needed to talk to Edelgard. He had to warn her, he had to go home, to make sure she was really safe. He needed more information. He needed help. It hurt to admit that but it was true. He was out of his depth. The only skills he had to rely on were those of a well trained keeper, yet having known the strength and little tricks that came with being a vampire, he had to admit that that training felt grossly insufficient.

Edelgard would help. She could give him some clarity of direction, of purpose. Perhaps she would even forgive his failures, including letting a human know what he was, or had been. He hadn't revealed any more secrets than Gloucester already had, so there was that. Small comfort. Minuscule, really.

Hubert was feeling quite withdrawn by the time Ferdinand brought him his breakfast. He tried to savour the novelty of tasting food again, with no real success. It didn't renew his strength, make him feel any clarity or any power. He found himself missing the taste of blood, the invigorating pleasure that came from feeding. It wasn't enough. But at that moment, neither was he.

**Author's Note:**

> [@NohrianLyric](https://twitter.com/NohrianLyric)


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